Sentinel Grognak
by giuseppimezzoalto
Summary: In which Lone Wanderer Serge tries to convince Sentinel Lyons that Grognak the Barbarian is truly the best series the world has to offer by drawing some unconventional comparisons. Written for the 2014 Fallout Secret Santa.


"So you're comparing me to a hairy, apelike barbarian man?"

Sarah scanned the cover of _Grognak, Issue #14_ as if searching for some kind of answer, and it became very quickly apparent to Serge as her eyes fixed on the somewhat Neanderthal-like warrior that she wasn't all too pleased with the association.

"No, no, I—well _yeah_ , kind of, but—" his attempt to backpedal the remark seemed to just make things worse, and as the Sentinel raised an eyebrow coolly, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It had been intended as a compliment, it really had, but he was starting to realize with no small amount of embarrassment that to someone who _hadn't_ been a diehard fan of the series since they were about ten, it may have actually looked more like an insult.

"You kind of gotta read it to get it…" he said with a guilty smile, in an attempt to rectify his error. He hadn't actually expected her to agree, though.

"Alright, Serge, I'm going to humor you: you have exactly ten minutes to sell this to me," her voice was stern enough to make anyone quake in their boots, but Serge could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips, which put him a little more at ease. He heard a 'thunk' as Sarah put her helmet on the table and pulled up a chair beside him.

"Your time begins now."

"Alrighty then," Serge muttered, as he began to thumb through the book to a random page towards the beginning. Unfortunately, it happened to feature a panel of Grognak rather unflatteringly biting the head off some kind of rodent. Great start.

"Uh. Ok, well… that's the protagonist, Grognak, as you probably guessed. He's uh… well he's not the smartest—but that's the part that _isn't_ you, see?" He illustrated his point by flipping forward a few pages, to a (pretty awesome, if he did say so himself) panel of Grognak smashing the boulder covering the entrance to the Virgin-Eater's lair clean in half.

" _That's_ more your kind of scene," he chuckled, flicking forward a few more pages.

"Right. And if I'm the barbarian, is that you, then?" Lyons asked smugly, pointing at the scantily-clad maiden whimpering in Grognak's arms as he sprang her from the lair of the Virgin-Eater.

"Pretty much," Serge snorted, though he rolled his eyes. Whilst he had learnt to handle himself in fights fairly well, thanks to his logical mind (well, his trusty Shishkebab helped too), he knew he would never even come close to Sarah's prowess on the battlefield. The first time he'd seen her in battle what seemed like forever ago, he'd been so captivated by her ferocity and skill that he'd nearly had his head crushed by a Super Mutant. He remembered the intense admiration that had seized him at how she was able to protect and inspire her own in a way that he was sure he never could. And yet there they were months later, laughing over comics together, of all things.

They were an unusual pair for sure, but in spite of their differences, the two had come to be very close friends. Whilst his ineptitude in combat had irked her enormously on their first meeting, Sarah had grown to appreciate Serge's intelligence and sweet nature. He was a lot more tolerant than she, and was often able to placate and motivate the Brothers where she began to lose her patience with them. All things considered, they made a very good team.

"That's his girlfriend, Brunhilda. She can be pretty cool, but unfortunately she's been captured by the Virgin-Eater here."

"Virgin-Eater, huh? So they don't really get up to much," Sarah said simply, with a perfectly serious expression, nearly making Serge choke on his Nuka Cola. One thing you had to watch about Sarah was that underneath her no-nonsense attitude, there _was_ a sense of humor lurking underneath. But it always arose unexpectedly, and was always delivered with an utterly straight face – you really had to be careful, especially if you were eating.

"Of course not. Grognak's a _gentleman_ ," Serge laughed, tipping an invisible hat. "They probably have to have their barbarian wedding first or something."

"Oh, obviously," Sarah conceded with a chuckle, shaking her head. "And what would you do if someone used these books for kindling without realizing their value?" She continued, keeping her tone carefully neutral, but unable to stop the sly smile starting to form. The very idea made Serge feel a little queasy, but he quickly got over the initial shock and, on realizing that she was pulling his leg, pointedly elbowed her in the ribs. Or, at least, where her ribs should theoretically be. Dang power armor.

"I'd obviously be incredibly upset! Especially upset if it was this one actually," Serge realized, his voice taking on a fond sort of tone. "This one was given to me by my best friend back in the vault at my birthday party. We were only about ten."

Sarah's eyebrows rose a little – she was clearly surprised they _had_ birthday parties in the vault, but thankfully, being a fairly private person herself, she wasn't the type to prod excessively. It wasn't that talking about the vault made Serge upset per se, or that he missed it by any means, but he considered it a thing of the past and preferred not to dwell on it. Still, he often found himself wondering how Amata was doing. Whether she'd been outside yet. He'd run into Susie Mack twice, and Butch more times than he could count, but hadn't encountered anyone else. Although knowing her, she was probably too busy being the best Overseer that vault had seen in a very long time, and Serge was proud of her for it.

"Hm. That's fair enough. Well, whilst I can't say I feel getting too attached to items in the conditions we live in is a good idea, I suppose I _do_ see the appeal… but you're appalling at explaining things so you're just going to have to lend one to me," Lyons stated matter-of-factly, standing and picking up her helmet from the table. Serge shot her his most charming smile.

"See, you _say_ I'm appalling, but you _are_ saying you'll read it. And here I thought I was a bad salesman."

"You are. But I'm curious. Now come on, Knight," she smiled, putting on the helm and clapping him on the shoulder. "That water's not gonna deliver itself."


End file.
